Toys in the Cellar
by Honey Bunches of Death
Summary: In the mist of an ancient prophecy, a sadistic society and the key to chaos, young Yugi Mutou must survive through the treacheries of humanity and his own mind. (Though the next chapters are short, I hope the content makes up for the wait.)
1. why can't you see

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Title: Toys in the Cellar

Author: Honey Bunches of Death

Pairings: None

Warnings: Darkish.  Tried to keep it as much in the "real world" as I could with my own twist.  Some nitpickers will need an AU slapped on this, but I consider this one of my more relaxed genres.  And I think my idea could actually work with the series, but I'm no plot expert here.

Continuity:  While this story is not set at any particular time frame, it should correspond with most major plot points up to about volume 30 of the manga.

Summary: In the mist of an ancient prophecy, a sadistic society and the key to chaos, a boy must survive through the treacheries of humanity and his own mind.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.  I ripped off of everything I could think of.  A proper disclaimer will be added at the end.

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When it came to the universe around them, humans were oblivious creatures.

But that statement was only part of the problem and was not specifically what this story is about.

When it came to truth, humans were oblivious creatures – even if the truth was about their own lives.

Human beings were once granted the ability of perception.  Instead of just passively observing the world around them, individual humans were able to interpret it as well.  People were no longer subjugated to understanding something the same way, and a new era of free thought began.  Two people could look out at the same sunset from relatively the same spot and then argue later on what had taken place.

The first person might have noticed the swirling rainbow sky.  The vibrant, warm combination of colors had been contrasting perfectly with the cool caressing breeze.  Dandelions and supple dirt had tickled their bare feet while they had been completely lost in the sweet smells of the grass.  Not even the busy little gnats had been able to wake them from the delights of nature.

The second person may have noticed the ominous black sky dripping down over the retreating light.  The bleakest night had finally overcome the day, bringing with it the menacing creatures of the night.  The bitter, chilling winds had bit at their skins while the mosquitoes filled their bellies with the viewers' blood.  The weeds had reached out to scratch their skin and the grass had itched the soles of their feet.  The sunset would not be over soon enough.

From these two viewpoints, many outsiders might try to conclude something about the personalities of the spectators.  The first person would be thought of as cheery and optimistic and the second person would be thought of as depressed or restless.  It was understood that perception is based on someone's disposition.  This was the gift that allowed people to be unique.  But even the best gifts came at a price.

Perhaps whoever gave humans this gift underestimated human weaknesses, or perhaps it was simply a test, but humans managed to warp their gift into a curse.  It began when humans found their place in the world, or rather, when they conquered the place where they would like to be – at the top.  Humans began to exert their will on the planet, but that wasn't enough.  They soon turned on each other, betraying their own kind for a taste of control.  They built up their buildings, gods and weapons to fit their image, yet they still could not perfect everything.  Some things refused to bend down to the will of others.  That's when perception became one of humanity's downfalls.

What could not be changed in reality could be perceived differently – in the way that the viewer *wanted* to see it.  Humans took up this practice without a second thought, and perception became an escape route from life.  People could perceive themselves as intelligent, compassionate, witty or devious.  They could make friends out of enemies or lovers out of acquaintances simply by perceiving what they wanted to see in the other's actions.  They might believe they understood themselves or their friends, but they only knew what they want to notice.  Individuals built up pocket realities for themselves.  Their worlds were protected from the truth as long as they could avoid objectively analyzing their lives and reinforce the walls of their reality.

But even the strongest walls had cracks.

Even the strongest walls broke.

Even the strongest people crumbled when they faced the truth for the first time.

Although the tale began in the time of the ancients, this story starts with a seemingly ordinary four-year-old boy.  Like every other boy his age, he was hyper and curious.  There was a happy, carefree innocence in his life that every young child should experience, but he was by no means perfect.   He would find himself reprimanded for his mischievous actions he committed with his small band of friends.  His parents tried to be fair with his punishments, but he was their only son and they really only ended up spoiling him with love.  But no one could begrudge the parents for that, as he was still better behaved than most children his age.  In fact, they only made one mistake as parents.

They had a child.

It was unfair to blame the young boy in this case.  The probability of him even existing was next to nothing.  Centuries of genetics had to be manipulated perfectly for certain desired traits to appear.  The project was nicknamed Yugiou.  The product of those years of designing was labeled Mutou Yugi.   

Yugi was blessed with magnificence and grace that only occurs with the proper mixing of genes.  Even at the age of four it was obvious he was intended to be an exquisite creature.  To compare his face to a cherub's would be insulting.  His skin was smooth and without a single blemish.  His facial features were each situated perfectly for his childish face, as if an artist had measured out the exact position of every element.  His delicate nose was centered over gentle lips.  But the trait that everyone gravitated to was his wide, expressive eyes.  They were an exotic shade of lilac that would sparkle brighter than the morning sky.  The purple hue of his eyes contrasted majestically with his multicolored hair, which was full and think.  It had a tendency to flow in every direction at once, reflecting his spirit.  True, he was petite for his age, but he made up for it with his boundless energy.

Yugi inherited more than just his matchless beauty.  There was an anomaly in his genetic code that allowed him greater access to his inner strength, along with a potential for a power level that had not been seen since before the project began.  This life force was neither black nor white, good nor evil; it was just Yugi.  And this made him even more powerful.

He remained unaware of the plots surrounding his life, the power he possessed and his fate, allowing for a blissful four years with his affectionate parents.  This life was destined for failure.  Yugi could not be allowed such a peaceful existence – he was not designed for it.

Even with Yugi's destiny over a decade away, Project Yugiou had become more abstract over the ages.  Considering Yugi's current surroundings, it was predicted that the product might grow up balanced and in tune with his gift.  The child would ruin a plot that dated back to the ancients.  Every detail had been planned down to the alignment of the stars – too much had been sacrificed to allow failure.  Someone had already managed to sabotage the original plan.  One of their own had betrayed the oath and protected the boy with the help of another rebel spirit.  After their meddling, the majority of the scheme had been compromised after Yugi's birth, and there were still unknown consequences to deal with.  It had been a struggle to rework the plan as closely as possible to the original for the project's director to be satisfied.  The product itself could not be allowed to bring further ruin.  Drastic measures needed to be taken to stabilize the program.  And so the events of Yugi's fourth birthday were considered.

What happened on that day would not be as simple as kidnapping.  The attempt to capture the boy at birth had been disastrous.  The traitor had managed to protect the boy and block Yugi from entering their bleak dimension.  The product was not stuck in his home dimension; he just couldn't enter his designer's.  For them, raising the boy on Earth was out of the question.  Since the project's beginnings, only the traitor had ever lived on the obtuse little planet and no one else would lower his or her standards to that of the deserter.  The power of the traitor could not be overwritten, but it could be evaded.  Of course, the boy's mind would have to be rewritten first, which was no more complicated than uploading a type of virus.  They sent their best agent.

None of this was known to anyone living on Earth.  There had been no premonitions or warnings signs for that morning.  The only difference on that day was the time that Yugi dragged his parents out of bed.  The promised trip to the aquarium had been too alluring for him to catch any sleep.  For the entire day he was going to drive his parents crazy –that's how long his adrenalin rush could keep him unaware of how tired he really was.  But his parents didn't plan to suffer alone.  They had convinced Yugi's Grandpa to close the shop for a day, but it was another story trying to get him away from his business.  The others waited impatiently outside during Grandpa's delay.  Those few minutes might have saved his life.

To almost anyone else Yugi's assault would have gone completely unnoticed.  A few people might have felt uncomfortable if they passed through the spot where the child had last stood, but even the most powerful of those few would be at a loss as to why.  The one sent was known for his carefully woven spells, which could be most simply understood as a fishnet.  If his nets had been made of rope, then they would have had millions of tiny fishhooks meticulously placed to bite into skin, no matter if the strongest Kevlar protected it.  Even if the subject had remained completely motionless, the ravenous hooks would twist further into the captive's flesh, as if they were in a frenzied hunger after the first taste of a new victim.  They would snake their way through their prey's body, never slowing until ever nerve cell was infected with their message of pain.  But his spells were not made of rope and metal.  They were much worse.

There is a type of irony in life that allows the beginning of the attack to be best equated with a children's show – one of those with singing puppets.  Whenever a new word is learned, it comes flying out onto the screen spelt in bright, cheerful Styrofoam symbols while the blue hairy puppet dances around it while sounding out each syllable of "erudition."  The kids are happy, the puppets are happy, the music is happy, and while the actors may rely on a strong antacid to get through the day, the message is still happy.

It should be noted that the society was not in the business of giving away happiness so that was not the message they sent Yugi.  Nor were there dancing puppets on cheerful sets.  So the attack really didn't begin like a children's show – except for those asinine Styrofoam symbols.

The word sent was simple.  Daily conversations held the word, although few considered the significance of it.  Perhaps that was why it was so easy to rip the word from millions of people's lips that day.  It did not matter the language or the context, but people everywhere were willing to part with a word that meant nothing more than a few shaped lines on a piece of paper.  So the word grew as it traveled around the globe.  Those it passed freely strengthened it with so little as a murmur of its syllables.  But the word remained empty until it was almost to the small person whom was its target.  Then it was filled with passions that were nowhere near happy.  With these shadows of feelings, the word became real.

Reality is filled with sites and sounds that are undetectable to human beings.  These phantoms reside in the outer spectrum, which the human mind cannot process easily and therefore are rejected from one's perception.  This word had become one of those things.  Yet it would be completely worthless if Yugi could not sense it, but that was not a problem with whom he was.  Even though Yugi had not been whom the society had intended to create, they still knew what he was and that he was vulnerable.

It was not meant to be a weakness.  Yugi had always been able to sense things further than those around him.  Never having experienced anything else, he was completely unaware of this ability.  Few people will tell children they are wrong and even less listen to the stories they tell so it was not like he had been told any differently.  So Yugi contentedly continued being able to discern red-orange from orange-red clearly as seeing black from white.  That's how he knew exactly when the word became real.

There are not proper words in any known language for what he sensed.  Throughout the ages, most languages have concentrated on their user's primary source for information: sight.  If there was a language with such words, the closest one could translate to today would be words like "bitter" or "loud" or "rotten".  No matter how eloquently someone may talk or write, there is only so much one can create with bland words.  Without those words, people need to experience things to comprehend them.

Remember a time in life where all feelings were heightened to a single point.  It could be anger, love, lust, envy, joy or whatever.  Just go back to the place of that single emotion.

Remember what was there; who was there; the sights and sounds that coursed through the body; the aromas that can pull the mind back to that place; the taste of the air as it forced life into everything.

Don't think about the events leading up to that feeling, just relive it.

Attach those experiences to a word.  The word does not need to make sense to anyone but the person who says it, but there needs to be a word.  With that word goes everything from that moment.  Each time the word is said, the bearer can experience that instant again.

Imagine if those experiences connected to the word could be lived by others.  With a single word, positive and negative events could be inflicted on another.

Imagine if a single word was the strongest weapon ever conceived.

Imagine being four years old and stuck in the middle of an ancient battle.  Death bathed the surrounding earth as life was butchered from that place.  Bodies littered the ground, both friend and foe.  The mothers, the children, the fathers, the loners were all there.  It did not matter who they once were.  In the end they were only nutrients waiting to seep back into the life cycle.  There was a crashing silence so loud it hurt the eardrums while the putrid gust of flesh being recycled permeated every pore in his body.  Every dead body was piled on top of his shoulders; every death was that of his own.  The blood, sweat and bodily excretions of those now gone were free to dribbled down his shirt, leaving tiny river on his back which could only be diverted to new paths, but never cleaned from his body.  There was also a feeling of worthlessness, which was now his.  All this was part of that once empty word.

Yugi did manage to see the word before it found him.  It was spelt out, almost as if it had been made of Styrofoam.  There was an agility there that surprised the boy.  One did not expect to see a floating word on his or her birthday, much less sense its movements as it snaked around a leg.  One nick of the flesh, one taste of the victim and the spell became a furry.  Yugi was only allowed freedom from the pain when he had completely submitted to the self-deprivation.  Proper words for the emotion did not even exist in his vocabulary.  With the mind infected, he was stolen into darkness.  Yugi did not run when he had first noticed the word.  It would not have done him any good.  The memory that pained him may have been stolen from another time, the word may have been stolen from people's lips that day, but the spell had been made specifically for him.

"Product."

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	2. you are my child

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Consciousness returned slowly for the boy, though the world only seemed to grow blacker for it.  His surroundings were new to him, yet there was something perplexingly familiar about that place, as if he was caught in an extension of himself.  His powers moved freely through the surrounding mist. However his physical body ensnared him.  No hands or chains pinned him to what could only be understood as the floor, but his own body disregarded his commands to get up.  His usual infinite energy had been ripped from him.  The slightest movement of his fingers seemed too arduous of a task.  Now the ground beneath him had been dulled, the black surrounding him was dingy, and the air didn't taste quite as sweet.  Even the consuming agony that had driven him from his reality was now only a chilling tickle throughout his body.  For Yugi, this reality was being experienced as if there was a thick wool glove capping his senses.  Although he did not know it, there was a way to explain his condition.

In that dimension, he was just another human.

Yugi was not meant to be normal.  Normal could not even approach the level of energy that Yugi's body required to function.  Normal could not survive the purpose. It was yet to be seen if Yugi was even meant to survive the purpose.  True, the Pawn had been allowed the advantages of a Queen, but even the most powerful piece on the board is only as useful as the strategy behind it.  Fate was not so cruel as to let Will carelessly destroy all its players, but the game had lost its greater meaning long ago.  Not every piece needed to be saved to win the game, especially not that piece.  If that Pawn was accidentally forgotten, Fate would say another play had occupied the board.  Ignoring a piece cut down on available resources. However, what was losing one piece in the scheme of things?  Especially when there was a reset button.

This time, Fate seemed to have ignored the ambush Will set up.  The newly enhanced Pawn had been placed carelessly in the trap, and Fate was quite content to see the play through.  After all, that Pawn was not meant to be blessed with such power.  With him destroyed so easily, the game could begin anew and the agreement would be fulfilled; the prophesized one would see to it.  Fate would be satisfied: if trouble occurred without that specific Pawn, Will would take the blame; if all went well, Fate would be praised for rectifying the error with such a sacrifice.

If it had occurred that way, the story would have ended with a scared child's death.  Surrounded by power but without the energy to cry, the boy would have faded from existence.  And perhaps that would have been a sign of compassion from Fate, for instead, Yugi had to face a fortune not his own.  But he was not as resigned to such a destiny as had been predicted.  The Society should have dissolved their plans the moment Yugi slid over the line.

He let go.

This means nothing to some.  Letting go is something to do to get off the monkey bars or to get over a breakup.  They have never simply let go.  Then again, few have seen the opportunities presented to them.  Most would not try it.

That explains nothing.

It is the gray area of any game.  There have never been any written rules about such occasions; everything was left up to common courtesy.  While the situation is quite a common one, never before had a piece consciously made the move.  A minor shift, a gentle nudge or an unstable table leg was all that was needed to send everything plummeting out of control.  The game pieces were replaced and a convenient oversight was made.  While Fate paid little attention to its own pieces, Will had ensnared the boy with great precision.  No one has dared to question why the error of his escape was allowed.

Most might wonder at the condemnation of Yugi for his trickery.  Their survival instinct would see no real harm in saving their own lives.  A typical person would feel no intended malice from the move and forget it.  But there were some souls who could not move on.  Perhaps it was their torturous surroundings and their torturous hearts that had got them there or perhaps it was what any tormented soul would do with such opportunity, but they marked Yugi.  In a way, he was to be their savior, and they would later attempt to repay him with his death.

But that was the future and that present was unwilling to give such a privilege away without attempting its own deception.  Every move could be countered with the proper resources and the mind to use them.  Yugi's last move would cost him dearly.

Strategically placed, the former Pawn could have taken an advantage in the game.  However, Fate wasn't aware of the opportunity that it had been presented, and randomly placed the former Pawn in the vicinity of where it had been knocked from – though it had hardly been random.  Yugi had been called by name to that square.

Cultures have often devised legends about names.  Names brought certain traits to the child as they grew and were an affirmation of being alive.  When a name was given, rituals were needed to inform the gods of the child so they would not be forgotten.  The presence of a person was forever invoked by speaking their name, after it had been accepted. In some societies, at birth, the child received two names; one was used in life and the other was the "true name".  The "true name" was never whispered in the living realm, for those who knew the name had control over the bearer.  Maybe the simplicity behind capturing the boy was what allowed such success. They had summoned him simply by uttering his name. 

When Fate abandoned him, Yugi's world became a wall created by an argument between two people.  He was granted sight, but the ambiance of words prevented him from observing the speakers.

The one who spoke with no true form bricked in Yugi.  It was a montage of voices, seamlessly switching between accents, ages and sexes.  One voice could be of a young Jamaican boy and the next could be of an elderly Australian woman.  Never did the pace of speech change or a voice repeat.  No cliché regional phrases ever entered the speech.  Every word was pronounced as cleanly as the accent allowed.  With each new voice came a new pitch, but it never varied with the speaker's emotions.  The only way to decipher the owner's emotions was to pay attention to how thick the accent was, and the speed at which it altered.  This rarely happened, as the voice remained haughty and assured of itself.  If the words were not so barren, the voice would have been beautiful.

While the first person could only box Yugi in, the second one cemented him in place.  The voice did not suffer from the folly of the first.  It's strength lay in the passions it carried.  Emotionally the voice held depth while the sound was deep and ugly.  It rasped like nails in a blender and was barely decipherable as female.  But it was not the cruel sound of the voice that sent shivers down Yugi's spine; it was that he knew a more melodious sound belonged with that presence. 

"It has arrived, my pet."

"He is not an 'it', Fukitsu."

"Fukitsu, hmm?  I had forgotten what droll, trivial name I had been given here."

"It matters little what language your name is spoken in, for it will always mean the same thing."

"How adept, though I would expect no less from you my dear."

"Enough!  I have a name and so does Yugi.  You would be wise to use them."

"As you wish, Traitor.  Though such threats were not necessary. All you needed to do was ask."

"Is that all I am now known as?"

"Traitor: no more, no less."

"Did you forget who I am?  What I've done?  What I've taken from you?"

"Are you perchance referring to the 'Mother' title you recently acquired?  I hardly think that such a title should be honored."

"How dare you take what I rightfully earned.  I have succeeded where the society failed.  I discovered the secret behind the bloodlines and brought life to what you would have only preached about for another millennia."

"You think so little of the society you once belonged to that you would believe we did not know of that possibility?  It was not time yet."

"The ancient prophecies are what make the society weak.  We must make our own plans and defy the poor destiny planned for us all.  The change makes us strong against those whom the society have feared far too long."

"Foolish child, you have no concept of what awaits the boy when he is given the key.  You have no idea the power behind those who would have been destroyed.  Even now they have probably been alerted to his presence."

"It matters not who stands in his way.  He will not be used for such a doom as was written."

"And you expect him to bring about your vision of the world.  How do you suppose that he will be able to carry out these plans of yours?  You have given him a destiny meant for another.  And you have told him nothing of his duty and taught him nothing of his powers."

"He will learn when the time is right."

"It is already too late for that.  Already his ignorance has been used against him."

"No more talk, Fukitsu.  Show me what you've done to Yugi."

"I have barely done anything.  It is your presence that holds him to this place; you have grown far too attached to the boy for his own good.  But do not attempt to send him home.  It is his power that forms this world and if he were to be severed improperly he would not survive."

"You can't!  Killing him would not suit the society's purpose."

"You forget how much has changed since you deceived us.  We can always restart the bloodlines or clone the child when the time is right.  But that is a discussion for another time.  Here is what you seek."

The dark veil melted from Yugi's view as if it had never been there.  Left behind were two figures dimly illuminated by light without source.  Yugi's gaze was drawn towards the familiar presence, though little comfort was offered from his mother.  She could no more move towards him than he could her.  Though her face remained neutral, her weary eyes reflected the strength Yugi would need to survive.

Approaching slowly with a sway that commanded respect was who Yugi needed to survive.  Shadows played with his features, allowing only two eyes and a crimson diamond on his forehead to shine through the darkness.  The ruby gleam from each eye engulfed the entire eye socket, creating the illusion there was no iris or pupil.  The scraps of body armor he wore refused to be shrouded by the darkness.  Metal curved around his sizable waist as if it were a belt and was secured by a scarlet diamond, but neither inhibited its barer.  Cuffs drew up his forearm and narrowed to a tip near the elbow.  Both were accented with a black inverted 'V' that progressed with the peak.  Another point reached down from the shoulder, though it always failed to meet its counterpart.  The single pieces of shoulder armor rested at a forty-five degree angle from the neck, each reaching almost to the wearer's ears and created a void between the shoulder and metal.  Securing them in the front were two red triangles, which formed a pattern over the broad chest.  The boots were much like his arm covers, though the black 'V' pointed down towards his feet.  Protruding from his back were six sleek purple spikes.  Jetting forty-five degrees from his back, they passed above the shoulder armor before abruptly turning and curving past his waist.   Every movement caused his muscles to ripple, outlining them in a deep purple hue.

Yugi stood awestruck, but was not intimidated.  Even when Fukitsu peered down at him and grinned with perfectly white teeth he did not flinch.  He merely gazed up in bewilderment at the face that was completely without pigment.  The child grew curious of the shortly cropped hair, which color matched his form-fitting suit and was cemented in place in a flattop.

The man appeased his own curiosity as he circled his prey, inspecting the boy from his lofty perspective.  When he had completed his inspection, he resumed his position in front of Yugi and addressed him for the first time.  This time, however, it was not with the style that had been overheard before.  This voice fitted the form.  It was calm and crept just below the baritone pitch that was expected.  The lack of accent allowed each word to come out crisply, as a child would learn to sound out each syllable.

"You are the one they call 'Yugi.'  Tell me, how old are you?"

While Yugi would have proudly told his age to every other stranger that day, he hesitated before quietly bringing up four fingers

"Four already?  My, my, how time has flown for you.  Four is a fine age for a young man like yourself, though you will be five before you know it.  But do not worry.  If things do not work out today you will not have to worry about such things."

Yugi's mother seemed to struggle at this, though if the man noticed, he paid no attention.  Instead, he continued, "You were quite courageous when you saw my appearance, though something in my voice alarmed you and you hardly know why."  He seemed to size up the child again before continuing, "You are supposed to be quite clever.  I wonder: shall we test the prophecies?  It shall not be hard at all.  In fact, let us play a game."

The daunting figure sidestepped a wooden table that now rested between himself and the boy.  Settling down something black on the table, he beckoned Yugi towards the edge.  The order was followed more from curiosity than fear and soon the child was peering over the tabletop.  The man slid his hand over the top of the object, evenly spreading out the deck of cards along the table.  The cards seem to fan out endlessly, until they covered the entire surface.

"The first step is very simple.  All you need to do is pick a card to represent you."

The customary voice of his mother finally broke through the silence as Yugi began to reach for a card.  "Yugi, you must stop.  Don't play his games.  There is no way to win!"

"Quiet, woman."  Fukitsu took first notice of his other captive since Yugi appeared.  "I can assure you that if the boy is clever enough he can survive.  He is cut off from his powers, though it no longer causes him pain. I shall use no magic of my own."

The outburst drew the attention of her son, who watched her now expressive face.  It spoke of fear and love, but did not deter his hand from seeking out a card.  One card seemed warmer than the others.  Quietly calling to Yugi's senses, it seemed to separate itself from the others.  The child did not peek at the card until he had brought it before his face.  While the back of the card had been only a shadow, the other side was bright.  A gold trim ran along the border and filled the corners with ancient symbols.  The words "Dark Magician" scrolled plainly across the top and were emphasized with a green tint.  Below the lettering was a humanoid dressed in purple robes that swallowed his figure except for his face.  He bore a serious expression and held his crescent-topped battle staff ready.  Yugi blinked down at the unfamiliar card before silently turning it towards his opponent.

His adversary took great interest in the card.  "So you are the Dark Magician.  I am quite surprised.  It will be rare, true, but its uses are rather average.  The power is possesses is matched by others, and those shall surpass its usefulness.  Of course, when combined correctly – but that is another matter.  Place the card face down on the table."

Waiting until the other cards had been gathered, Yugi did as he was bid.  The man than drew two cards from the pile and placed one face down on each side of Yugi's card.  "Each of these cards holds a fate.  The objective is simple: pick out your Dark Magician."

Yugi stared at his center card and thought for a moment before speaking for the first time.  "If I don't?"

Fukitsu's smile returned.  "Then the fate might prove to be painful.  Do not worry; I have no intention of starting with you, boy.  Or the Traitor, as I want her to see the fate of her comrade.  He is merely a nuisance.  He is a master of strategy and nothing more.  I would have destroyed him if he had not been protected from physical attacks when I first called the product.  But this will be more interesting.  Now, boy, pay close attention to your card."

The hands moved quickly in a random pattern as the cards were palmed and dropped in different positions.  Long before the dance had stopped, Yugi had lost track of his card.  

"Tell me which card is yours."

He did not hesitate to point in front of the left card.

"Are you sure?"

Yugi felt the reassuring and now recognizable sensation coming from the left card.  He nodded quickly without doubt.  The dealer slid his hand over the card, revealing the card face with the smooth gesture.  Though the card's layout was the same as the Dark Magician, this card read "Magic Jammer."  Three tendrils of smoke snaked up the card from a mystic red and gold circle.

"Oh, too bad, little Yugi.  It appears your card was hidden elsewhere."  In the same manner the center card was flipped over.  The sensation had moved towards the next card and now the Dark Magician peered out.  "So close, yet not close enough.  The Magic Jammer is quite the suitable fate for the Other. Do you not agree, Traitor?  He is forever stripped of all magic that makes him useful.  Seeing him trapped in that world until he dies should provide some entertainment, especially given the age you started him with.  But there is one drawback, boy.  Do you know what that is?"

The child honestly shook his head.

"It requires you to discard something.  Do you have something to sacrifice?"

The answer was the same.

"Oh dear.  Then I will have to chose for you."

A confused and petrified young man materialized in the room.

"Father!"

"The poor fool has no idea what has happened throughout his entire life.  You never did tell him of your true intentions, Traitor.  Now he will see the life you once had before you betrayed us."

He was gone as quickly as he had come.  Yugi choked back a scream as he watched his father vanish into an unknown realm.  His opponent allowed no time for grief.

"Remember this lesson, boy. There is nothing permanent in this world.  This may mean you will see him again someday.  But he is gone for now.  And if you do not play the next game correctly you will lose your mother as well."

The Magic Jammer was placed to the side and another card was added face down next to the Dark Magician.  "Remember to watch carefully."

The cards danced again.  They twisted and dropped with the help of their dealer until they finally rested.

"Tell me which card is yours."

The cards were all inspected before the feeling drew Yugi to the one on the right.  Tapping the surface of the card, he waited for Fukitsu to flip it over.  The same theatrical move was used as slowly the top of the card fell into view.  Instead of paying attention to the newly overturned card, Yugi followed the calling of the Dark Magician as it moved to the center card again.

"Once again, little Yugi, you were just slightly off.  Though once again you have chosen an excellent fate, the Change of Heart."

The man did not lie.  Below the title stood another humanoid, literally half angel and half devil.

"Though I must wonder what a card with such a title would do to a traitor."  The eyes flashed with glee as he faced the woman.  "You have caused enough trouble and now justice will be satisfied.  I would let you watch the destruction of your son, but instead, you will never know the dastardly fate that will befall him.  This is your punishment.  And know now that if you ever return to his world, you will be mortal and be cursed to remember all without being able to act on it."

The child was forced to watch the annihilation of his mother.  She accepted her fate gracefully as she was sent back to the society.  Sending a wave of kindness towards her son, she whispered a short sentence on the winds to comfort the crushed boy.  His young mind pondered her words as the final game was prepared.

"So, boy, how does it feel to know that you have condemned three people this morning?  Their lives were torn from them and you chose their fates?  Do not despair though.  This last hand is for your soul."

The cards danced their last dance, never slowing or faltering.  They moved with blinding speed, but Yugi was too distracted to notice.

"Tell me which card is yours."

~:::::-:-:::::~~:::::-:-:::::~


	3. why don't you know

~:::::-:-:::::~~:::::-:-:::::~  
  
The caliginous game shrouded the possible outcomes extending from the cards, and even one not gifted enough to see the future could sense the uncertainty of the outcome. There was only one possible choice in Yugi's mind though. The ambition had been wrenched from the obscure part of the soul not even his childish innocence could subdue. Fueled by the vicious knowledge of superiority, Yugi's need to win surpassed the bounds of revenge and survival. The outcome of the victory became immaterial. The only motive Yugi possessed then was the need to win - even his parents grew forgotten as his mother's last words shriveled from his short-term memories.  
  
As the memories faded, Yugi's facial features seemed move independently of their owner. Lips thinned into an uncharacteristic smirk that only hinted at the daunting expression their master would later wear. His eyes seemed to spark with anticipation for the game he now knew how to manipulate. The cards were the birthright the lilac-eyed human had stolen from a willing victim - one who had thought himself to be doomed since before time had been conceptualized. Now his victim was free and Yugi became slave to his own treasure.  
  
None of the cards needed to differentiate themselves for him; the Dark Magician's warm seduction was now redundant. The child knew automatically each monster's statistic, it's location in the deck, and the restrictions which governed them. He cared little for such rules as he placed his hand next to the center card, the Blue Eyed White Dragon.  
  
Yugi's shaded eyes never wandered to check if Fukitsu was mystified or entertained by the move. The reward was not to be found within his opponent and his victory could not be savored until the last play was made. He felt the future stored within the card Fukitsu had chosen for him move towards the center card. The dealer's hand moved slower than before, almost as if to lure Yugi into an impulsive action.  
  
Taunting was now redundant.  
  
Waiting until the last second was not Yugi's attempt at dramatics; it was instead insurance in case the agent was tempted to switch his plans. No matter how more fearsome the card in Fukitsu's hand compared to the Blue Eyes White Dragon, Yugi knew it would be tempting to leave the boy to his chosen card. The greatest irony would be if the product had destroyed himself - if the card that ruined him was one he choose of his own free will. Honesty was not highly regarded among the society; however, it would amuse the members to learn that no righteous "justice" could touch the society on accusations of fraud. Yugi was unsure which card to concentrate on, for he doubted he could execute his plan twice in such a short time. It was for this reason which the pawn waited until only the dealer's hand concealed the face of the card.  
  
In a time frame shorter than a human can recall his own name, Yugi had reached beyond the dimension he was trapped in and into a forgotten realm of night and shadows. His ability to pass there was part of his inheritance from the former potentate of Egypt, though the dimension would not accept him as willingly as he had embraced it. The fallen innocent let his edict known in the aphotic corner of the universe, the aftereffect already obvious in Yugi's limpid thoughts.  
  
Both Yugi and Fukitsu knew which card would be revealed but only the intended victim was correct.  
  
The execrable being stared at the form of the Dark Magician. Although only drawn onto the card, the eyes seemed to have a derisive life to them. Fukitsu attempted to hide his incredulity from both of his onlookers, but he could not deny what was positioned before him. There had been no magic involved. He had not been lying when he said Yugi had been separated from his powers; therefore only one possibility remained. If it had not been magic, then only one with authority in the *other* domain could succeed in such a task. This did not bode well for the society, for it meant that the pharaoh would no longer be at their disposal. Though no fault of his own, the ancient spirit had escaped the clutches of destiny. Yugi was now permanently entangled in the prophecy which would remain for all eternity like a noose around his neck.  
  
Distracted by his own thoughts, Fukitsu almost missed the insistent tug at the end of his consciousness. Tracking the sensation, the depraved individual found himself surprised again by the newest bane of his existence. The child appeared to be pained through some unknown force. Scowling as he realized he had not caused Yugi this distress, Fukitsu moved towards the quivering form without thought or reason until the implications of the pull became apparent.  
  
The overwhelming anguish had forced the small body to curl itself. If his eyes had been open not a flicker of awareness would have shown there. The only thing that matter was becoming smaller. Sweat escaped his body to weight his once luminous hair to his brow. The effect remained unnoticed as all efforts were exhausted attempting to shrink inwards. Only one moan escaped his lips while his breath left him; inflating his lungs even slightly would make him too large and exposed. Drawing his limbs in tighter, Yugi unknowingly began to do the same for his power. The power brought with it the very dimension that had ensnared it.  
  
Even Fukitsu could not resist the force of the young one's Kharybdis. Only one option remained to save him dimension: cut the boy free. But even snapping back to his home plane of existence did not solve Yugi's problems. The briefest of moments when nothing surrounded him cause a disturbance in his growing void. Greedily it lashed out to the nearest substance it could yank to its core. It found what should have remained hidden for it claimed the entire memory of the society.  
  
All lay bared for Yugi. He knew of past deceitful dealings and the manipulative intents towards his predecessor. He knew of his mother's betrayal and her reasons behind them. He knew of the plans for his capture and the fate of his parents. He knew of the future of his home world and the role he would be forced to play. He knew what had caused him such pain.  
  
He had been wrong; it was not just a game. With his actions he had heedlessly ripped the soul out of his card and replaced it with another. Like any leader, he felt the suffering of those he controlled, even when there is only one follower at that moment.  
  
No comfort could be found for him, not even his return to his home. He cared not for his age or for the fish he should have seen or even for his Grandfather.  
  
He never wanted to see darkness again.  
  
He never wanted to hurt another.  
  
He never wanted to face his destiny.  
  
He never wanted anyone to realize the truth and his shame.  
  
He only wanted to forget and to make the world forget.  
  
Then his mind shutdown, but not before reaching across all space and, for a moment no one knew they lost, brought the world with him.  
  
~:::::-:-:::::~~:::::-:-:::::~ 


End file.
